That Last Warm Day In October Poem by David Kowalczyk

My mind slowly drowns in memories
made holy by time.
Daylight fades. A gentle breeze
scatters a rainbow of leaves.


Thirty years ago, my eyes
were blinded by my vision.
I was adrift in a dream,
homeless in heaven, wandering
constellation to constellation,
footsteps leaving no traces.


Clay pressed cold against my back,
the arrogant scent of sycamores
mellowed by that of wild mint,
the hypnotic song of muddy waters
lapping against granite and driftwood,
our lips straining towards each other's,
and brushing so lightly, as if gossamer.


Terra firma was your home, flesh
and blood your natural elements.
Gravity kept your eyes open